Page 46 of Cashmere Ruin

Buttons paws at my leg, as if agreeing with her. I’ve never felt more like an impostor—like a thief stealing love she doesn’t deserve. “I…”

“When’s the last time you cried, April?”

I try to answer… and then I realize that I don’t know. I’ve teared up in fights. I’ve feared for my life and nearly cried there. But I can’t remember when I last didthis.

So I let it happen: I cry. I sob all over Petra’s pristine white shirt and then some. I fall over the precipice of the breakdown I’ve been tiptoeing around all this time, these four weeks of nothing.

I cry until I have nothing left to give.

And then, just to be sure, I cry a little bit more.

15

APRIL

After a lunch of ice cream and pizza, I finally manage to convince Petra that it’s safe to leave me alone. It’s a hard sell, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s crafting things people will buy.

She hasn’t been out five minutes when someone else knocks on my door.

This time, I know exactly who it is.

“Charlie!” My brother wordlessly crushes me into the second hug of the day. “Jesus, have you grown taller?” I laugh. “It’s like Jack and the freaking Beanstalk here, and you’re both characters.”

“Couple of inches,” he preens. Then he starts looking around excitedly. “Where is she? Is she awake?”

Straight to the point. “You’re in luck. You caught her in a rare moment of awareness.”

“That makes it sound like she’s in a coma, sis.”

“Trust me, she’d be more awake if she was.” I go pick up my bundle of joy. “May I, Mr. Buttons?”

My cat gives a slow blink of approval.“Just don’t keep her too long,”he seems to be saying.“My lady’s schedule is full as it is.”

As soon as I put her in Charlie’s arms, he starts beaming. I worry he’s seconds away from holding his newborn niece up like Simba just so he can show her to the world.Look, I’m an uncle now!

“What’s her name?” he asks with stars in his eyes.

I bite back a laugh. “May.”

“May,” he repeats, awed. “That’s funny. It fits.”

“Right? I’m a riot like that.”

“So are you going to keep up the tradition? Next one is June and so on?”

I make a so-so gesture. “I think our June likes being the only one of her kind.”

“Maybe Julius for July if it’s a boy,” he muses. “August also works. Oh, or Augustus! Did you know that’s where those two months’ names come from? Julius Caesar and Caesar Augustus?”

There he goes, my history buff baby bro.“I’ll keep that in mind for the next Roman emperor I birth.”

He gives a pensive hum. “Maybe Matvey will want to pick a Russian one. He… April, are you okay?”

I force myself to unfreeze. Charlie’s words caught me like an ice bucket—I didn’t see them coming at all. “Of course,” I lie. “It’sjust… maybe it’s too soon to think of other kids. I’m not sure Matvey will even want them.”

Certainly not from me.

It’s the same train of thought Dr. Allan’s visit brought on: other kids. A big family. Matvey doesn’t want me anymore; he’s made that abundantly clear. But he also said…

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